


White, Red, Black, Pale

by orsumfenix



Series: Bluepulse Week 2016 [2]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Established Relationship, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse - Freeform, M/M, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:21:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orsumfenix/pseuds/orsumfenix
Summary: The apocalypse comes in four parts. It’s almost entirely Bart’s fault.





	

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Day 3: Nightmare  
> originally i was going to do a french twist (mare=sea, so sea of night) but there was literally nowhere to take that. instead i asked my mum what 'nightmare' made her think of, and she answered with some statues of the four horsemen she'd seen. as someone who loves the four horsemen concept, I Was Hooked.  
> i must warn you: this is weird.

**p̠e͘ͅs͍̞t̗̯ͅi͏̠͍̰̠ͅl̖e͈̠̜̥̪̥͙͠n͇̫͍͇̥̝c̹͈̫̺͈ͅé̱͓̬̻**

 

“Why are we here, again?”

Batman shoots an annoyed look back. Bart tries not to cower too obviously.

“Because these caves are ancient, and yet they’ve suddenly starting showing strange energy readings. Very similar readings to the unknown energy impulse you caused when you travelled back here.”

“ _Yeah_ , I get _that_ ,” Bart stresses, eyes rolling. “I just mean, like – what _exactly_ is dragging me all the way here going to accomplish? What, we’re gonna look at some ancient carvings and see some rocks and maybe get trapped in a cave-in? Yay, sounds like fun!”

“Try to temper your enthusiasm.”

Wait, was that a joke? Did Batman – _Batman_ – just make a _joke_?

Bart lets himself grin wider than he probably should.

“Aw, you _can_ make jokes! I knew you had it in you, Bats.” He sobers up. “But, seriously, I can’t think of a _single_ good reason for us to come here. Can’t you get Dr Fate or something to check it out? Or better yet, just ask him what’s going on? Isn’t he, like, a god?”

“He’s not a god,” Batman asserts, not bothering to turn round and face Bart. “And I like to check the facts for myself.”

“But how can _I_ help?” Bart kicks a stone on the floor, watching as it spins off. “Yeah, so, my arrival gave off similar readings. But like I said – I’m not a chronal expert.”

“You built the time machine, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Bart admits. He peeks around Batman, glimpsing only darkness up ahead. He shudders. This whole place gives him the creeps. It’s kind of a narrow cave, gloomy and dark except for the large torch Batman is carrying. “But that doesn’t make me an expert on time travel and its effects. I mean, technically I’m a walking paradox, but hey, I’m still kicking.”

“I noticed.” Batman turns back briefly, head travelling from Bart’s head to his shoes. “But I think you know more than you let on.”

Bart snorts, eyeing Batman’s torch nervously. He hopes that thing doesn’t go out, or else they’re both screwed. Well, maybe not Batman. He’s pretty sure that guy could find his way out of _anything_. His cowl probably lets him see in the dark.

“I know your identity, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” Bart discloses carefully. “Bruce Wayne, millionaire playboy. Or was it billionaire? Never mind – you get the picture. But _you_ know _my_ name, so I say it’s fair trade. Plus, you _did_ interrogate me about the future that one time, so I think I have a right to know the bare bones about you.”

Batman is silent for a few moments, before turning away.

“There’s not much to know.”

“Okay, that’s the biggest understatement I’ve ever heard.” Bart arches an eyebrow. “Also the biggest _lie_. I don’t know your origin story, and man, it’s _so_ hard to find out. All I know is that your parents died. Other than that, let’s just say you cover your tracks well.”

He can only see the back of Batman’s head, but there’s amusement in his voice when he asks, “You researched me?”

“I researched _everyone_ ,” Bart confesses, peering around Batman once more to see if anything is lurking in the darkness. There’s nothing. “You, Superman, Wonder Girl…And, of course, Blue Beetle.”

“Of course.” Batman comes to a sudden halt, holding his torch up to the wall on the right. “Look at this. There’s markings…”

Bart moves to stand beside him, eyes narrowing. Sure enough, there’s a weird picture inscribed on the wall – four horses with riders on the top, smeared with what Bart assumes is ancient paint that’s somehow lasted this long.

The riders are making odd gestures – the White Horse rider isn’t really doing much, just covering (his? her? Bart goes with their) mouth with their hand. The Red Horse rider is a different story, spear aloft as though charging into battle. The Black Horse rider is the thinnest, sitting ramrod-straight. And finally the Pale Horse rider is holding a scythe, because apparently that makes sense.

“The Four Horsemen,” Batman murmurs, tracing the inscriptions. Bart frowns.

“The what?”

Batman turns to scrutinise him for several uncomfortable seconds.

“You don’t know about the Four Horsemen?”

“I know about the Three Beetles. I told you I come from a post-apocalypse, right? We didn’t have, y’know.” Bart waves an arm, feeling a stab of satisfaction at the noise of the sound barrier breaking. “Ancient cultural stuff. It was all ‘do as you’re told or the big bad Beetles’ll come for you!’”

“Hmm.” Batman turns back to the inscriptions, pulling out a bulky camera and beginning to snap photos. “The Horsemen are said to herald the end of the world. Pestilence,” he explains, pointing to the White Horse, before moving along. “War, Famine and Death. If they arrive, supposedly it means an apocalypse.”

“So just a regular Tuesday, right?”

Batman doesn’t exactly _smile_ , but his lips do quirk up in what may be an approximation of one.

“Pretty much,” he agrees, putting the camera away… _somewhere_. “Let’s keep going. There should be a chamber somewhere around here.”

“Have you ever been in here before?”

“No. _I_ haven’t. But I have a couple friends who have.”

“ _You_ have _friends?_ ” slips out before Bart can stop it. At Batman’s glare, he smiles weakly. “Kidding! Geez, that was a dark glare. Do you practise that in the mirror?”

“I – no.”

Bart’s mouth drops open. He takes several speedy steps forward to stand right beside Batman.

“Oh my god, you _do_ ,” he crows, not even bothering to temper back his revelling in delight. “Don’t worry, I practise smiling in the mirror. But seriously, I think the other Bats do, too. _Especially_ Timmy.”

“I’d appreciate more concern over secret identities.” Batman doesn’t exactly look pleased – but then again, Batman hardly _ever_ looks pleased. Bart just grins up at him.

“Aw, c’mon, who’s even gonna hear us down here in the deep dark cave? No one, that’s who. Except for maybe those Cowmen guys you mentioned.”

Batman does another of his patented glares. Bart’s grin just gets sunnier.

“I know you have an eidetic memory,” Batman states. It’s vaguely threatening. “So I’m not bothering to correct you.”

“Spoilsport.”

“You’re even cheekier than the Flash.”

Bart opens his mouth to respond, but instead finds himself gaping at the chamber they’ve emerged into. It’s mysteriously lighter than the tunnel here, even if Batman’s torchlight is still at the exact same luminosity.

Four statues stand in a circle, each about the size of Bart’s head. They seem to be made of stone, horses and riders, making the exact same pictures of the markings on the wall. They’re not very good. And yet the podiums they stand on are pitch black and shiny, like marble or something. It’s kind of a weird thing to find in a cave.

Batman looks positively _fascinated_. Bart is less so.

“Can we hurry this thing up?” he complains, foot tapping impatiently. “I’m gonna be late for my date.”

“You’re a speedster.” Batman replies seemingly on instinct, then pausing. “Date with who?”

“Blue. Duh.”

“Blue _Beetle_?”

“Who else? You know, he’s tall – well, taller than _me_ – blue, armour kind of resembles a beetle? Hence the name.”

“Wasn’t he responsible for the apocalypse during your time?”

Bart blinks.

“So?”

Batman stares for a couple moments before turning his head with what might be a flicker of a smirk.

“Kids these days.”

“Aw, what’s _that_ supposed to -”

“Let’s focus on the statues,” Batman interrupts, torch beam moving to settle on the red one. It’s a _very_ bright red, almost the colour of blood. Considering that these caves are ‘ancient’, the statues seem pretty well preserved. “Hmm.”

Bart squints up at him.

“What does _hmm_ mean?”

“These statues. It’s the Four Horsemen, again. Don’t you find them odd?”

Bart’s nose scrunches up. He kicks at the floor again.

“I find them _ugly_. Hey, why did they make the pillars all marble-y but not the statues? That’d look _way_ cooler. Something tells me these ancient guys weren’t big on design.”

“They probably had bigger problems.” Batman’s camera reappears and begins taking pictures of the statues. Bart bets the lighting on those photos is _shit_. “They left these statues abandoned down here. I doubt they were exactly going for aesthetic appeal.”

“ _Hmph._ ” Bart goes to kick the floor and almost falls over. “ _I_ could’ve made better statues, and I’m not exactly the artsy-fartsy type.”

Batman turns to _stare_.

“You’re majoring in Art.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“And you’re _good_.”

Bart frowns. “Do you spy on my artwork?”

Batman shakes his head.

“You brought it to the Watchtower to show everyone, remember? I saw enough to know that you _are_ the artsy type.”

“Well, _obviously_.” Bart rolls his eyes. “I was lying for emphasis. God, this is _boring_. Can we leave yet?”

“Hold on.” Batman holds up a hand. “I want to get more pictures.”

“Can _I_ go, then? I’m not bringing anything to the table here. Unless you’re too _scared_ to get left alone in the deep dark cave.” Bart gestures with a hand, and it takes a moment for him to realise that he just made contact with something.

The Pestilence statue falls to the floor. In all honesty Bart could probably catch it, but he’s so busy staring and wondering why it’s so badly made that it just doesn’t quite occur to him.

The statue hits the ground, and breaks.

“See?” Bart says. “Cheaply made.”

Batman opens his mouth, probably about to shout something about how Bart should Respect History!!!, but the last thing either of them is expecting is for a bunch of flying bugs to rise out of the statue.

“Ohmygodthat’sgross,” Bart blurts frantically, moving backwards even faster than usual. Bugs are _moding_. Awful! He hates them. A _lot_. “You have bug spray, right?”

He moves his eyes over to Batman, and freezes in horror.

Batman is _covered_ in the bugs, flailing in a very Not-Batman way. Bart’s mind is currently a mantra of _bugsbugsholyshitbugs_ , but he’s a hero at heart and finds himself scurrying forwards to help.

“Grossgrossgross,” he chants, trying to flick one away from Batman’s arm and freaking out when he feels its horrible little shell. Bart shouts his next speech, hoping that the bugs aren’t clogging up Batman’s ears. “Batman! Where’s your bug spray?” He’s got to have some, right? This man is the most prepared person Bart’s ever met. The only question is where did he _hide_ it?

Is it in his utility belt? Bart eyes it anxiously, barely able to see it below the bugs covering Batman’s entire body. There’s _no way_ he’s routing around in there. _No_ way.

Frantically, he slams his communicator.

“Hey, it’sKidFlash. Me and Batman are in these tunnels andthere’sbugswereallyneedhelp can someone come please?”

A pause, presumably while the person on the other end is attempting to decipher speedster-speak, before Oracle answers.

_“Kid Flash? Can you state your position please?”_

“Thoseweirdtunnels Batman dragged me to. Youcantracemycomms can’t you?”

_“I – yes. Anything we should bring?”_

“Bug spray. Andmakeitquick.” Belatedly, he realises how that sounded. “Sorry. That was kinda rude.” Bart eyes Batman nervously. He’s not exactly being very productive, but he really can’t think of anything to do.

Oracle just sounds amused.

_“It’s fine. We’re sending the Alpha Squad now.”_

“ThankssomuchIgottagobye!”

Cautiously, Bart approaches Batman, grabbing at the bugs and flinching away when they look like they might actually get close to _crawling_ on him. Crawling! _Ugh!_

All of a sudden, they’re gone. Bart blinks a couple times, trying to dispel the god-awful images of _bugs_ crawling around beneath his eyelids. Batman is leaning over, heavy breaths escaping his mouth.

“Oh my god. Are you alright?”

Batman looks up, glaring.

“I’m fine, no thanks to you.”

“Um.” Bart’s eyes trail up and down his form, looking for any sign that the bugs are still there. “Where’d they go?”

“I have no idea.” Batman rises, stretching his arms out. His expression is _very_ displeased. Bart doesn’t blame him. “Weren’t you watching? Seeing as you didn’t seem to be doing anything _else_.”

“I was freaked out! I _hate_ bugs, didja know that? They’re _awful_! A blight! Hey, you seem like the type of guy to have bug spray. Why didn’t you use it?”

Batman glares.

“I was preoccupied.” Which, Bart guesses, is fair enough. “Did you at least call for help?”

As if on cue, Superman of all people appears floating in the entrance to the chamber. Behind him, Blue Beetle flies in, wings humming. Bart has no idea how they got here so fast. Must’ve been nearby.

“We came as fast as we could,” Superman informs, settling down on the floor with concern taking over his features. “Is everything alright?”

“Blue!” Bart greets, beaming. “I’m not late for our date, am I?”

Jaime shoots him a _look_.

“Our date isn’t for another hour.” He scans up and down both Bart and Batman, a frown marring his face. “What happened?”

“Batman got attacked by bugs! It was _gross_! Did you bring bug spray?”

“You’re scared of bugs?” Jaime inquires, raising a brow. At Bart’s nod, he shakes his head and smiles. “You know I’m called Blue _Beetle_ , right?”

Bart’s mind pauses for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing. Eventually, he settles on closed.

“Oh my god!” Superman exclaims, garnering everyone’s attention. His face has gone pale. Generally, Bart’s learned, that means people are anxious. Superman’s eyes trail off to the side, before settling back on Batman. “We might have a problem.”

“What is it?” Batman demands, right off the bat. Holy shit, this guy doesn’t waste time.

Superman swallows.

“I just x-rayed you,” he informs, looking like he’s about to faint. “And those – bugs, that Kid Flash mentioned?” Batman nods stoically. “They’re inside your body.”

\--

“You alright?” Jaime asks, twelve minutes after The Bugs Reveal and a not-so-small freak-out from…well, _everyone_. “That was…kind of messed up.”

Bart shudders.

“You _think_? I would say I’m crash, but _man_ , those _bugs_. I’m gonna be having _nightmares_ about those.”

“Where did they come from?” Jaime inquires, a frown settling over his brow. It’s adorable. “These caves are pretty low underground. It seems weird that the bugs are still alive from being inside that statue for so long.” Well. They’re inside _Batman_ , now.

Bart waves a hand.

“They came from one of those weird statues. The white one, I think? I wasn’t really paying attention. Too focused on, y’know, _bugs_.”

 _“Extra_ _ñ_ _o_. So they just…came out?”

“I sorta, um, knocked it over?” Bart informs meekly, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. He’s probably a bit _too_ familiar with this expression. Jaime shoots him a dark look. Bart’s face turns apologetic. “Hey, I didn’t mean to, okay? I was just like – gesturing, which I’ve gotta insist is a totally normal and non-weird thing to do. Next thing I know Batman’s covered in bugs and I can’t find any bug spray!”

“Sounds horrible.” Jaime’s words are sympathetic but his face isn’t. Bart breathes upwards, trying to blow away an annoying strand of hair.

“I know, right? That’s what I thought. Horrible, terrible, completely moding in every way. Are you still up for our date?”

Jaime pauses, then smiles.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

\--

Batman and Superman never make it to the Watchtower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rlly....liked writing....bart and batman....this combo needs to happen more....  
> jaime's not even this chap until near the end r.i.p. me  
> also: while bits of the other chaps have been written, this is the only one that's actually _been_ written


End file.
